


Udesiir

by Val_Creative



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Good Parent Din Djarin, Humor, Hurt Din Djarin, Injury Recovery, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Mild Blood, Snow, Soft Din Djarin, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: The Mandalorian returns injured to Sorgan with Grogu and finds a moment's peace with Omera.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Omera
Comments: 29
Kudos: 99
Collections: Star Wars Secret Santa 2020





	Udesiir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anakinyoustopthat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinyoustopthat/gifts).



> This is my first time writing for The Mandalorian fandom! Here's me hoping it's good! -crosses fingers- I would love to hear if you liked it! This is also for **Star Wars Secret Santa 2020** on Tumblr and for [anakinyoustopthat](https://anakinyoustopthat.tumblr.com/)!

*

_Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur._

The Mandalorian — Mando — remembers hearing that phrase as a foundling, as Din Djarin living among a new family...

_Today is a good day for someone else to die._

Blood drips from the ends of his gloves. Startlingly hot. Mando tries not to think about the blaster rifle wound, and about nearly losing Grogu while they hide in Noult, quickly surrounded by chaos. More bounty hunters who left the Guild. The good ones.

Everything blurs in front of Mando's eyes. He shakes himself from it, throttling the Razor Crest's engines.

Grogu warbles from his crib-pod.

"Don't worry," Mando says breathlessly, his voice distorted and amplified through his helmet. Grogu's ears twitch. "We're almost there, kid. Almost there." What feels like the long-stretching, loud sensation of going into planetfall rattles Mando's skull.

It's the last thing he remembers.

*

Sorgan is nothing but a real backwater skug hole, according to him. Full of lousy liars and emptiness and noxious swamp gas.

(That's why Mando chose it the first time, and why he does so again.)

He discovers himself on thin bedding and illuminated in the sunlight, Mando's wound bound tightly with rags. Feels like he's gone toe-to-toe with a Super Star Destroyer — _figuratively speaking_. Blow to kingdom-come. Came close to the final jump and all.

Mando sits up, clutching over the linen rags oozing in bacta. He groans.

"Kriffing—"

"Such language in front of the children," Omera scolds gently, looking down on him with an easy smile. She turns her daughter lingering by the hut's entrance. "Winta, my darling… would you fetch a basket of the natterbloom herb? Please hurray."

Winta shyly gazes to Mando, twisting her fingers together before retreating out of sight. She's gotten older.

Before he can ask, Omera hums and picks up an impatient Grogu from his pod, letting him waddle across her hut's floor. Relief floods Mando. As long as the kid's okay, everything else will be okay. He pats over himself, checking for his weaponry stash. Mando's still in his vambraces loaded with single use flash bulbs and his whipcord launcher and a double set of flamethrowers.

"It's all there," Omera says softly, crinkling her nose in amusement. "I made sure they kept your helmet on as you were treated."

Mando nods. "You have my gratitude."

"How long did it take you to get here?"

"Not long," he answers, hesitating. Mando looks around for his cape and full-chest beskar plate, noticing it heaped onto a reed-woven mat. "I got shot at a very close range where my armor didn't protect me. It was unlucky."

"Were you?" Omera muses. She scrunches up her lips, as if good-naturedly considering a thought. "You found your way here and you survived. You taught your son to reach out to others when your life was in danger, and _because_ of this… we found you and we were able to bring you here. You may not think you did your best with the circumstances, but you have."

Mando says nothing, observing as she smooths her dress, woven rough and blue like her mat, and sits beside him.

"You came back to me," Omera whispers.

Her eyes land on his visor's horizontal section, and something burns inside him. Rosy-hot with emotion. _Vulnerable_.

"… I did."

Omera's hands cradle the sides of Mando's helmet. She once tried to persuade him to stay, to think on revealing his face and giving up a life of running from his enemies for a life of peace. It sounded beautiful… but reckless. Nearly impossible to him.

Their foreheads incline. She has no idea of the significance as Mando presses his to hers, touching Omera's knee.

"Omera…"

 _"Momma! Momma!"_ Winta screeches happily, pointing to the sky outside and hopping in place. _"Look!"_

They pull away from each other with Omera glancing confused between her daughter and Mando, getting to her feet. Mando follows, though with some difficulty, eying a determined Grogu toddling after Winta encouraging him to her.

The air feels icier than Mando remembers. He stares up into the clouds, as many other villagers do with open-mouthed delight.

"Does it ever snow here?"

"No," Omera murmurs, staring alongside him. "You must have brought it with you."

He jerks his head around. A tiny, teasing smirk pretties Omera's mouth.

"Hilarious…"

Mando doesn't pull away from her fingers nudging his, as their arms hang at their sides. Grogu squeals with bright-eyed delight as Winta and the other children dance around in the powdery white snow. Mando's own hand re-clasps Omega's fingers.

This will be the last thing he remembers when his life fades, Mando expects.

It's better than anything else.

*


End file.
